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by bessmertny



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: AT LONG LAST I'M IN MY FIELD AGAIN, F/M, First Time, Porn, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessmertny/pseuds/bessmertny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Damned Fae strenght”, Nesta mutters as she takes another string to lace her shoe with, after the last three broke between her  fingers like they were made of thin air.</p>
<p>“Speaking to yourself?”</p>
<p>Nesta’s head snaps to the door and there he is, leaning on the door frame, his arms crossed on his chest, infuriating grin in place.</p>
<p>Cassian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

“Damned Fae strenght”, Nesta mutters as she takes another string to lace her shoe with, after the last three broke between her fingers like they were made of thin air.

“Talking to yourself?”

Nesta’s head snaps to the door and there he is, leaning on the door frame, his arms crossed on his chest, infuriating grin in place.

Cassian.

She wonders for how long he’s been staring at her.

Nesta’s jaw clenches. She doesn’t have words for him. For what she feels for him, for how enraged she feels for the fact that no matter how far in herself she hides, he can always find her, read her and come to his own conclusion that she wants with all herself to be wrong but are always right.

“Do you need a hand with that?” he asks. Since she’d been made, he was always near her and she hates the fact that she _loves_ it.

Hates how his voice makes her knees go weak like she is nothing more than a spineless little girl.

“No”, she growls, as the string snaps in half between her hands. Again.

He chuckles.

He chuckles and she wants to hit him with the shoe.

Because she-

No, thinking about what happened will bring her no good.

But he is strutting torward her and she panics for an istant but then he kneels in front of her, taking the string from the little box near her feat. He moves and his scent hits her.

“What are you doing?”, she asks, but he doesn’t answer.

She tries to get back, to put more space between their bodies as she possibly can but slams her back on the wall behind her with a thud, and he looks up at her.

Not even a day ago she kissed him.

Kissed him like he was hair and she was drowning, kissed and kissed him and wanted more of him, wanted all of him.

And it scared her.

So she ran away, and avoided him. Seems like she has nowhere to run now.To her surprise, she doesn’t feel trapped by his presence. She feels oddly freed by it. By him.

There’s a word dancing on her tongue. She doesn’t have to say it, he knows. They both know. His hands are moving on her ankles, stroking gently, his eyes never leaving hers, his hazel gaze enveloping her.

“I take it you’re done running.” he says flatly but with a strange edge in his voice, almost angry. It wasn’t a question. A snarl comes out of her throat.

“I wasn’t running.” she replies with all the steel she can muster, but her patience it’s wearing thin because she wants him, whatever blasted Deity this Fae worship help her, she wants him and it consumes her like only her rage ever did.

“Keep telling yourself that”

She glares at him, but Cassian’s hand and moving on her thighs, hosting up her gown in the process. The breath stops in her throat before she can form a smart reply.

She sees the question in his eyes, he is asking her permission to go on, to take it further. Her pride is sreaming at her to say no,to not surrender to him, to deny herself whatever it is that he is offering her. But her body, the heat pooling in her belly and her soul are begging her to say yes, screaming the word at her.

She nods slowly, and his reaction makes it worth it; his nostrils flair like he is finally giving himself the permission to breath her in and his eyes widen, a rumble in his chest.She knows her scent gave away to him how aroused she feels and his grip on her legs tightens a bit while she blushes violently.

Her eyes wander on him, on that gorgeaus body of him, at the muscles on his naked arms and her mouth goes dry.

Cassian kisses her thigh, the string forgotten on the floor, and her breath hitches.

“What-what are you doing? I’ve never-”, she starts and stops, trying to speak as his lips reach higher.

“You don’t have to do anything but _feel_ ”, his voice sings to her skin.

His tongue laps at her skin and she moans, she can’t even stop herself and he makes an appreciative sound.

Cassian’s hands go up, up, brushing her underwear and Nesta grips the shoerack near her, afraid she will fall, a demonstration of how little control she has and it’s a satisfaction she doesn’t want to give him.

Yet.

But then, oh Mother, his fingers are stroking between her legs and the sound coming out of her mouth is something that she has never heard.

And he- he will bethe ruin of her, she knows it, she knows it.

He moans, his mouth open.

“You’re wet”, he says, his voice breathless. Part of her, an extrmely childish one, wants to object but there’s no point in denying the obvious, so she doesn’t speak.

His fingers starts to stroke her in circles, gently, and she takes the hem of her gown in her hands and lifts it to free his other hand and just give him the complete freedom of doing what he wants, what _she_ wants.

She looks at him, at his nearly black eyes, at how is mouth is just few inches away from where his hand is and she can’t tear her eyes from him.

Cassian gently bites on her inner thigh as she does the same on her lower lip, trying to reign any embarassing sound that threatens to escape her lips.

His eyes shot up, piercing her.

“None of that,” he exclaims, breathing ragged, and one of his hands reach to her chin, pulling her lower lip down from the grasp of her teeth,“I want to hear you”.

She nearly whines at the low sound of his voice.

But his hand takes some time, traveling down her body, stopping on her breast while the other between her legs starts to be a little rougher and she’s sure the the fabric of her underwear is _soaked_.

Cassian doesn’t seem satisfied with the contact to her chest, muffled by the fabric, so she feels every movement as his hand slids under her dress and up to cup her naked breast.

He seems to be everywhere on her.

His lips are moving closer to her centre until his mouth moves on her underwear.

He looks at her as he hooks his fingers in the fabric and pulls it down to her ankles. In a moment his hands are coming up again, gently parting her thighs, and she lets him.

Cassian let his hands rest where hers are, keeping up the crumpled gown.

A part of Nesta just wants to take her dress off, watch it fall on the pavement.

His tongue graces her folds in a big wide stroke and her head snaps back, hitting the wall. He looks up at her, concern in his eyes, while she moans and entwines their fingers.

He doesn’t stop, his tongue curling on her until her kness are trembling. She arches under his mouth, her shoulder blades glued to the wall.

“More, more, _Cassian_.”

At the sound of his name coming out from her lips he snaps. He takes her in his arms, hoisting her up and goes to her bed, luckily big enough for both of them. He lays her down and kisses her, her taste fresh in his mouth and she scrambles to get his shirt off, she needs to feels his skin on hers. He helps her, and she sees his muscles move, the intricate pattern of his tattoos, the tiniest movement of his wings.

She traces the swirl of a part of his tattoo, on his shoulder, first with her finger and then with her tongue.

He’s on top of her, and maybe she should be afraid of this man, this warrior, the only man who ever saw her like this, the only one with the power to make her come undone.

The ache between her legs is becoming unbearable and she rubs her thighs togheter to ease it a bit. Cassian places his hands on her knees, stopping the movement.

“Something the matter?”, he asks, his voice a low thunder.

She tries to snarl at him, but what comes out is a needy sound.

“Tell me what you want, Nesta. Tell me what you need.” his face is the crook of her neck, his body brushing hers.

His hand slither down, exactly where she wants it, where she _needs_ it. Her own hands are grabbing the sheets while she spreads her legs for him, only for him.

What has he done to her? To her walls, her mask? Who is he to make her feel like this? She wants to trash and get away from him, just to prove herself that she still can, that she has a sort of control on this while he doesn’t.

But he kisses her and it’s so sweet and slow, his tongue in her mouth.

One of his fingers slips inside her and she shouts his name while his other hand is on her breast again, naked flesh meeting naked flesh, she didn’t even notice when her dress was opened and doesn’t care.

His hand creates a broken tempo, in and out, while his damned mouth, his damned, skilled mouth his on her breasts, biting, licking and she arches into him, to the hotness of his body, fire meeting fire.

Nesta grips his hair, keeping him closer to her. “ _You_ , _you_ , _I want you, I need you_.” she tries not to shout, she tries to make her voice as even as possible, but fails completely, on both parts.

He moans, a throaty sound.

She knows she is about to come, and for whatever damend connection they have, he knows it too.

And he slows down.

“Don’t you dare!” she snaps, an he laughs, laughs like it’s the most hilarious thing in the world.

“Such a demanding creature, you are.” he grazes his nose on her collar bone, the gesture tender.

“ _Nesta_ ”, the way her name rolls off his tongue, like every letter was assembled with the other just for him to say them.

One finger becomes two, his thumb stroking her folds and it’s nearly too much, his tanned skin on her, his mouth now on her neck, peppering it with kisses.

She is about to come, about to explode under him, scatter every piece of herself under him.

“Harder, faster, please, now.” she says and the sound he makes nearly brings her off.

“Hard and fast” he repeats, she feels the words vibrating out of him. “I like that.”

Cassian twists his torso to get better access to her body. Nesta sees the bulge in pants and her mouth _waters_.

She wants to take those pants off of him, stroke him, grip him, make him _come_ undone.

His eyes follow her gaze.

“What are you looking at?” he breathes on her skin and she shivers, a little smile on her lips for his particular choice of words.

She hooks a finger in the inside of his pants, trying to get them down.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to feel obligated” he says.

Oh, but Nesta is sure.

She tugs harder.

“Off.”

He doesn’t oblige her right away, instead he starts to twist his finger inside her, until she arches.

Then he withdraws from her and she whines at the sudden loss, but hen she applies her own hand where his was.

“Fuck”, he says, looking at her like he wants to devour her. He takes off his pants and she can’t help but look at his hardness. She can’t compare but it’s impressive. A little part of her is scared, and she swallows.

Cassian eyes don’t leave her, they are scorching, claiming. He unbottons what is left of her dress and frees her from it. His eyes are now looking at her hand between her legs, licking his lips.

He’s so,so hard and Nesta wants to touch him.

“Look at you,” he says “look at what you do to me.”

She raises a hand, a tentative touch on his manhood and he moans.

She grips him, then, with her hand a bit more confident and he moans again. The arm keeping him up shakes.

“Come here” she says, placing herself on her side, gripping his wrist so his hands doesn’t move.

He does, and now they are face to face and the moment it’s so cathartic, the emotion so strong and she dives to kiss him, putting all she has in the pressure of her lips on his, the importance of what is growing between them, the thing she is scared to call love but has no other name.

His fingers are moving again, fast and hard, like she wants and she is desperate to come at this point, she was so close earlier but the need of him stronger.

Her hand flail blindily on him, reaching his stomach and going lower until she finds what she is looking for. She pumps up and down on his length. He half moans, half growls as his free hand pulls her closer.

The only sound is their ragged breathing, their moaning and the sounds their hands make. She is close again and it’s hitting her stronger now, she wants to close her eyes and get lost in it but doesn’t, she strokes him harder, making him feel her urgency, and he understands, of course he does.

They are so close to each other there’s barely enough space for them to move and she is gasping, convulsing aound his fingers and she stops moving for a second, letting the wave of her orgasm crush over her. Then she goes faster and their eyes lock as he comes, his hand gently gripping her hair like he is about to float and she is the only thing keeping him on the ground.

They stay like that until their breath evens, then he takes the edge of the covers and cleans them both and then tosses it at the feet of the bed.

Cassian circles her shoulder with his arm, gently crusing her against his chest, and places a kiss on her hair.

“It would seem that I know how to get a man on his knees.” she says playfully and he laughs, his mouth above her forehead.

And she-

She feels safe, for the first time in her life.

At home.


End file.
